I'm suffering from a recurring headache. The niggling, nagging kind that doesn't really go away. It fades for a while, but it's never long before it comes back in full force.
It's one of those situation headache's. The kind that are brought on by something specific.
 |
| Well known example of situation headache |
But in this case, it's not set off by #1 Hubby coming at me with that look in his eye. Although, he is responsible all the same.
Mine is caused by this....
 |
| Football + loud & endless TV coverage = recurring headache for me |
#1 Hubby is obsessed with football. Preferably the Aussie Rules variety, but he'll take any kind he can get. Or any other sport for that matter. If it's on TV, he'll watch it. Synchronised swimming, lawn bowls, marbles, table tennis - anything at all.
But his favourite is AFL. Because in our house, Aussie Rules rules.
The pre-season competition started last month. Right around the time my headache started. I'm not sure I can survive until OCTOBER when the football season has finally finished for another year (only to be replaced by cricket or rugby or soccer or some other sport that conveniently starts as this one finishes).
Thanks to cable television, I have an entire 7+ months of football blaring out at me in surround sound. Followed by replays, repeats, repetitive repeats of replays. Followed by another sport. And another. And another. It's a vicious circle, and #1 Hubby could literally watch sport 24/7. And he would if he wasn't worried about me chopping his boy bits off to use as ear plugs.
If he was watching it at normal volume I could begrudgingly tolerate it. If it came with a backing soundtrack of soothing elevator music, I could hum along to it. Instead, with TV remote firmly in hand (never to ever leave his possession), the volume goes up. And up. And up.
According to him, it doesn't. But I know better. According to him, you need it loud in order to appreciate the game and get into the atmosphere....from your lounge, in your living room, with your family. Obviously he is confusing our home with being at the ground, in the stands.
So instead, I wait for the rare occasion he lets go of the remote and diverts his attention during an ad break, and then stealthy gradually drop the volume a few notches over the space of an entire ad (so as not to alert him to the lowering volume), and slip the remote out of sight to somewhere he won't find it. I blame the kids when he starts pulling the living room apart looking for it.
#1 Hubby is not deaf. I know this because he can hear me whisper to a girlfriend over my wine glass in another suburb. He hears me on the phone to #1 Nana as we discuss the sales catalogues. He hears me thinking about new shoes and handbags.
But when the football is on, he develops a chronic case of specialised male deafness:
Our three little darlings are incredibly loud. They would give a jumbo jet engine a run for it's money. #1 Hubby can't eat, walk, watch the News, read the paper, shower, function - anything - if there's too much noise. Which is always. And often aided by me in his ear nagging about some random thing.
But when the football is on TV, he is magically oblivious to all sound other than the game. I could stand in front of him whooping like a fire alarm and he doesn't even register. I know this, because I have actually tried it. The kids have made a number of decent attempts at invoking natural selection within arm's reach of his head, and the blood curdling primal screams don't even break through his invisible football cone of silence.
He is seriously, literally, 100% oblivious to anything else. A lot like the well known male phenomenon of selective hearing - he has tuned out to every frequency other than the TV (and who said men couldn't do two things at once?).
I need a dog whistle that operates on Football telecast frequency.
Or a professional Husband Whisperer.
But his favourite is AFL. Because in our house, Aussie Rules rules.
The pre-season competition started last month. Right around the time my headache started. I'm not sure I can survive until OCTOBER when the football season has finally finished for another year (only to be replaced by cricket or rugby or soccer or some other sport that conveniently starts as this one finishes).
Thanks to cable television, I have an entire 7+ months of football blaring out at me in surround sound. Followed by replays, repeats, repetitive repeats of replays. Followed by another sport. And another. And another. It's a vicious circle, and #1 Hubby could literally watch sport 24/7. And he would if he wasn't worried about me chopping his boy bits off to use as ear plugs.
If he was watching it at normal volume I could begrudgingly tolerate it. If it came with a backing soundtrack of soothing elevator music, I could hum along to it. Instead, with TV remote firmly in hand (never to ever leave his possession), the volume goes up. And up. And up.
According to him, it doesn't. But I know better. According to him, you need it loud in order to appreciate the game and get into the atmosphere....from your lounge, in your living room, with your family. Obviously he is confusing our home with being at the ground, in the stands.
So instead, I wait for the rare occasion he lets go of the remote and diverts his attention during an ad break, and then stealthy gradually drop the volume a few notches over the space of an entire ad (so as not to alert him to the lowering volume), and slip the remote out of sight to somewhere he won't find it. I blame the kids when he starts pulling the living room apart looking for it.
#1 Hubby is not deaf. I know this because he can hear me whisper to a girlfriend over my wine glass in another suburb. He hears me on the phone to #1 Nana as we discuss the sales catalogues. He hears me thinking about new shoes and handbags.
But when the football is on, he develops a chronic case of specialised male deafness:
Sports Induced Aussie Male Deafness : Oblivion
Our three little darlings are incredibly loud. They would give a jumbo jet engine a run for it's money. #1 Hubby can't eat, walk, watch the News, read the paper, shower, function - anything - if there's too much noise. Which is always. And often aided by me in his ear nagging about some random thing.
But when the football is on TV, he is magically oblivious to all sound other than the game. I could stand in front of him whooping like a fire alarm and he doesn't even register. I know this, because I have actually tried it. The kids have made a number of decent attempts at invoking natural selection within arm's reach of his head, and the blood curdling primal screams don't even break through his invisible football cone of silence.
He is seriously, literally, 100% oblivious to anything else. A lot like the well known male phenomenon of selective hearing - he has tuned out to every frequency other than the TV (and who said men couldn't do two things at once?).
I need a dog whistle that operates on Football telecast frequency.
No comments:
Post a Comment